SIR,---I
have made so ill use of your former favours as by them to be encouraged
to entreat that they may be enlarged to the patronage and protection of
this book. And I have put on a modest confidence that I shall not be
denied,
because it is a Discourse of Fish and Fishing, which you know so well,
and both love and practise so much. You are
assured, though there be ignorant men of another belief, that Angling
is
an art, and you know that art better than others; and that this truth
is
demonstrated by the fruits of that pleasant labour which you
enjoy,---when
you purpose to give rest to your mind, and divest yourself of your more
serious business, and (which is often) dedicate a day or two to this
recreation. At which
time,
if common anglers should attend you, and be eye-witness of the success,
not of your fortune but your skill, it would doubtless beget in them an
emulation to be like you, and that emulation might beget an industrious
diligence to be so; but I know it is not attainable by common
capacities.
And there be now many men of great wisdom, learning and experience,
which
love and practice this art, that know I speak the truth. Sir, this
pleasant
curiosity of fish and fishing, of which you are so great a master, has
been thought worthy the pens and practises of divers in other nations,
that have been reputed men of great learning and wisdom. And amongst
those
of this nation, I remember Sir Henry Wotton (a dear lover of this art)
has told me that his intentions were to write a discourse of the art,
and
in praise of angling; and doubtless he had done so if death had not
prevented
him, the remembrance of which hath often made me sorry; for if he had
lived
to do it, then the unlearned angler had seen some better treatise of
this
art, a treatise that might have proved worthy his perusal, which,
though
some have undetaken, I could never yet see in English. But mine may
be thought as weak and as unworthy of common view; and I do here freely
confess, that I should rather excuse myself than censure others, my own
Discourse being liable to so many exceptions; against which you, sir,
might
make this one, that it can contribute nothing to your knowledge. And
lest
a longer epistle may diminish your pleasure, I shall make this no
longer
than to add this following truth, that I am really,
Sir,
Your most affectionate friend,
And most humble servant,
IZAAK WALTON.

TO
THE READER OF THIS DISCOURSE,

BUT ESPECIALLY

TO THE HONEST
ANGLER.

_______

I
THINK
fit to tell thee these following truths, that I did neither undertake,
nor write, nor publish, and much less own, this Discourse to please
myself;
and, having been too easily drawn to do all to please others, as I
propose
not the gaining of credit by this undertaking, so I would not willingly
lose any part of that to which I had a just title before I begun it,
and
do therefore desire and hope, if I deserve not commendations, yet I may
obtain pardon. And though
this
Discourse may be liable to some exceptions, yet I cannot doubt that
most
readers may receive so much pleasure or profit by it, as may make it
worthy
the time of their perusal, if they be not too grave or too busy men.
And
this is all the confidence that I can put on, concerning the merit of
what
is here offered to their consideration and censure; and if the last
prove
too severe, as I have a liberty, so I am resolved to use it, and
neglect
all sour censures. And I wish
the
reader also to take notice, that in writing of it I have made myself a
recreation of a recreation; and that it might prove so to him, and not
read dull and tediously, I have in several places mixed, not any
scurrility,
but some harmless, innocent mirth, of which, if thou be a severe,
sour-complexioned
man, then I here disallow thee to be a competent judge; for divines
say,
there are offences given, and offences not given but taken. And I am the
willinger to justify the pleasant part of it, because though it is
known
I can be serious at seasonable times, yet the whole Discourse is, or
rather
was, a picture of my own disposition, especially in such days and times
as I have laid aside business, and gone a fishing with honest Nat and
R.
Roe; but they are gone, and with them most of my pleasant hours, even
as
a shadow that passeth away and returns not. And next let
me add this, that he that likes not the book should like the excellent
picture of the trout, and some of the other fish; which I may take the
liberty to commend, because they concern not myself. Next let me
tell
the reader, that in that which is the more useful part of this
Discourse,
that is to say, the observations of the nature and breeding, and
seasons,
and catching of fish, I am not so simple as not to know that a captious
reader may find exceptions against something said of some of these; and
therefore I must entreat him to consider, that experience teaches us to
know that several countries alter the time, and I think almost the
manner,
of fishes' breeding, but doubtless of their being in season; as may
appear
by three rivers in Monmouthshire, namely, Severn, Wye, and Usk, where
Camden
(Brit. Fishes, 633) observes, that in the river Wye, salmon are in
season
from September to April; and we are certain that in Thames and Trent,
and
in most other rivers, they be in season in the six hotter months.Now for
the
art of catching fish, that is to say, how to make a man---that was
none---to be an angler by a book; he that undertakes it, shall
undertake
a harder task than Mr. Hales, a most valiant and excellent fencer, who,
in a printed book called "A Private School of Defence," undertook to
teach
that art or science, and was laughed at for his labour---not but many
useful
things might be learnt by that book, but he was laughed at because that
art was not to be taught by words, but practice; and so must angling.
And
note, that in this Discourse I do not undertake to say all that is
known,
or may be said of it, but I undertake to acquaint the reader with many
things that are not usually known to every angler; and I shall leave
gleanings
and observations, enough, to be made out of the experience of all that
love and practise this recreation, to which I shall encourage them. For
angling may be said to be so like the mathematics, that it can never be
fully learnt; at least not so fully, but that there will still be more
new experiments left for the trial of other men that succeed us. But I think
all
that love this game may here learn something that may be worth their
money,
if they be not poor and needy men; and in case they be, I then wish
them
to forbear to buy it, for I write not to get money, but for pleasure,
and
this Discourse boasts of no more; for I hate to promise much, and
deceive
the reader. And however
it
proves to him, yet I am sure I have found a high content in the search
and conference of what is here offered to the reader's view and
censure:
I wish him as much in the perusal of it, and so I might here take my
leave;
but will stay a little and tell him, that whereas it is said by many
that
in fly-fishing for a trout the angler must observe his twelve several
flies
for the twelve months of the year: I say, he that follows that rule
shall
be sure to catch fish, and be as wise, as he that makes hay by the fair
days in an almanac, and no surer; for those very flies that use to
appear
about and on the water in one month of the year, may the following year
come almost a month sooner or later, as the same year proves colder or
hotter; and yet, in the following Discourse, I have set down the twelve
flies that are in reputation with many anglers, and they may serve to
give
him some observations concerning them. And he may note, that there are
in Wales and other countries, peculiar flies, proper to the particular
place or country; and doubtless, unless a man makes a fly to
counterfeit
that very fly in that place, he is like to lose his labour, or much of
it; but for the generality, three or four flies, neat and rightly made,
and not too big, serve for a trout in most rivers all the summer. And
for
winter fly-fishing---it is as useful as an almanac out of date! And of
these, because as no man is born an artist, so no man is born an
angler,
I thought fit to give thee this notice. When I have
told
the reader, that in this fifth impression there are many enlargements,
gathered both by my own observation and the communication with friends,
I shall stay him no longer than to wish him a rainy evening to read the
following Discourse; and that, if he be an honest angler, the east wind
may never blow when he goes a fishing.

I. W.

___________________

COMMENDATORY
VERSES.

___________________

TO MY DEAR
BROTHER
IZAAK WALTON

UPON HIS

"COMPLETE
ANGLER."

______

ERASMUS
in his learned Colloquies Has mixt
some
toys, that by varieties He might
entice
all readers: for in him Each child
may
wade, or tallest giant swim. And such is
this
Discourse: there's none so low Or highly
learn'd,
to whom hence may not flow Pleasure
and
information; both which are Taught us
with
so much art, that I might swear, Safely, the
choicest
critic canot tell Whether
your
matchless judgment most excell In angling
or
its praise: where commendation First
charms,
then makes an art a recreation.
'Twas so to me: who saw the cheerful spring Pictur'd in
every
meadow, heard birds sing Sonnets in
every
grove, saw fishes play In the cool
crystal
springs, like lambs in May; And they
may
play, till anglers read this book; But after,
'tis
a wise fish 'scapes a hook.
Jo. Floud, M.A.

______

TO THE

READER OF THE
"COMPLETE
ANGLER."

______

FIRST
mark the title well: my friend that gave it Has made it
good;
this book deserves to have it. For he that
views
it with judicious looks, Shall find
it
full of art, baits, lines, and hooks.
(The world the river is; both you and I, And all
mankind,
are either fish or fry.) If we
pretend
to reason, first or last His baits
will
tempt us, and his hooks hold fast. Pleasure or
profit,
either prose or rhyme, If not at
first,
will doubtless take in time.
Here sits, in secret, blest theology, Waited upon
by
grave philosophy Both
natural
and moral; history, Deck'd and
adorn'd
with flowers of poetry, The matter
and
expression striving which Shall most
excell
in worth, yet seem not rich. There is no
danger
in his baits; that hook Will prove
the
safest that is surest took.
Nor are we caught alone,---but, which is best, We shall be
wholesome,
and be toothsome, drest. Drest to be
fed,
not to be fed upon: And danger
of
a surfeit here is none. The solid
food
of serious contemplation Is sauc'd,
here,
with such harmless recreation, That an
ingenuous
and religious mind Cannot
inquire,
for more than it may find Ready at
once
prepared, either t'excite Or satisfy
a
curious appetite. More praise
is
due: for 'tis both positive And
truth---which,
once, was interrogative, And utter'd
by
the poet, then, in jest--- Et
piscatorem
piscis amare potest.
CH. HARVIE, M.A.

______

TO MY DEAR
FRIEND MR.
IZAAK WALTON;

IN

PRAISE OF
ANGLING;
WHICH WE BOTH LOVE.

______

DOWN
by this smooth stream's wand'ring side, Adorn'd and
perfum'd
with the pride Of Flora's
wardrobe,
where the shrill Aerial
choir
express their skill--- First, in
alternate
melody; And, then
in
chorus all agree--- Whilst the
charm'd
fish, as extasy'd With
sounds,
to his own throat deny'd, Scorns his
dull
element, and springs I' th' air,
as
if his fins were wings.
'Tis here that pleasures sweet and high Prostrate
to
our embraces lie: Such as to
body,
soul or fame, Create no
sickness,
sin or shame: Roses, not
fenc'd
with pricks, grow here; No sting to
th'
honey-bag is near: But, what's
perhaps
their prejudice, They
difficulty
want and price.
An obvious rod, a twist of hair, With hook
hid
in an insect,---are Engines of
sport
would fit the wish O' th'
epicure,
and fill his dish.
In this clear stream, let fall a grub; And,
straight,
take up a dace or chub. I' th' mud,
your
worm provokes a snig; Which,
being
fast, if it prove big, The Gotham
folly
will be found Discreet,
ere
ta'en she must be drown'd. The tench,
physician
of the brook, In yon dead
hole
expects your hook; Which,
having
first your pastime been, Serves for
meat
or medicine. Ambush'd
behind
that root doth stay A pike; to
catch---and
be a prey. The
treacherous
quill in this slow stream Betrays the
hunger
of a bream. And that
nimble
ford, no doubt, Your false
fly
cheats a speckled trout.
When you these creatures wisely choose To practise
on,
which to your use Owe their
creation,---and
when Fish from
your
arts do rescue men,--- To plot,
delude,
and circumvent, Ensnare and
spoil,
is innocent. Here by
these
crystal streams you may Preserve a
conscience
clear as they; And when by
sullen
thoughts you find Your
harassed,
not busied, mind In sable
melancholy
clad,
Distemper'd,
serious, turning sad; Hence fetch
your
cure, cast in your bait, All anxious
thoughts
and cares will straight Fly with
such
speed, they'll seem to be Possest
with
the hydrophobie. The water's
calmness
in your breast, And
smoothness
on your brow shall rest.
Away with sports of charge and noise And give me
cheap
and silent joys. Such as
Actaeon's
game pursue, Their fate
oft
makes the tale seem true. The sick or
sullen
hawk, to-day, Flies not;
to-morrow
quite away. Patience
and
purse to cards and dice Too oft are
made
a sacrifice: The
daughter's
dower, th' inheritance O th' son,
depend
on one mad chance. The harms
and
mischiefs which th' abuse Of wine
doth
every day produce, Make good
the
doctrine of the Turks, That in
each
grape a devil lurks. And by yon
fading
sapless tree, 'Bout which
the
ivy twin'd you see, His fate's
foretold,
who fondly places His bliss
in
woman's soft embraces. All
pleasures
but the angler's bring I' th' tail
repentance
like a sting.
Then on these banks let me sit down, Free from
the
toilsome sword and gown; And pity
those
that do affect To conquer
nations
and protect. My reed
affords
such true content, Delights so
sweet
and innocent, As seldom
fall
unto the lot Of
scepters,
though they're justly got.
1649.
THO. WEAVER, M.A.

______

TO THE READERS

OF

MY MOST
INGENIOUS FRIEND'S
BOOK, "THE COMPLETEANGLER."______

HE that
both knew and writ the Lives of men,
Such
as were once, but must not be again;
Witness
his matchless Donne and Wotton, by
Whose
aid he could their speculations try: He that
conversed
with angels, such as were
Ouldsworth
and Featly, each a shining star
Showing
the way to Bethlehem; each a saint,
Compar'd
to whom our zealots, now, but paint. He that our
pious
and learn'd Morley knew,
And
from him suck'd wit and devotion too. He that
from
these such excellencies fetch'd,
That
he could tell how high and far they reach'd;
What
learning this, what graces th' other had;
And
in what several dress each soul was clad.
Reader,
this he, this fisherman, comes forth,
And
in these fisher's weeds would shroud his worth.

Now
his mute harp is on a willow hung,
With
which when finely touch'd, and fitly strung,
He
could friends' passions for these times allay,
Or
chain his fellow anglers from their prey.
But
now the music of his pen is still,
And
he sits by a brook watching a quill:
Where
with a fixt eye, and a ready hand,
He
studies first to hook, and then to land
Some
trout, or pearch, or pike; and having done,
Sits
on a bank, and tells how this was won,---
And
that escap'd his hook, which with a wile
Did
eat the bait, and fisherman beguile.
Thus
whilst some vex they from their lands are thrown,
He
joys to think the waters are his own;
And like the Dutch, he gladly can agree
To
live at peace now, and have fishing free.April 3,
1650.
EDW. POWEL, M.A.

______

TO MY DEAR
BROTHER
MR. IZAAK WALTON

ON HIS

"COMPLETE
ANGLER."

______

THIS
book is so like you, and you like it, For
harmless
mirth, expression, art and wit, That I
protest,
ingenuously 'tis true, I love this
mirth,
art, wit, and you.
ROB. FLOUD, C.

A CONFERENCE
BETWIXT
AN ANGLER, A HUNTER, AND A FALCONER; EACH COMMENDING HIS RECREATION.

______

PISCATOR, VENATOR, AUCEPS.

Piscator.

OU
are well overtaken, gentlemen, a good morning to you both: I have
stretched
my legs up Tottenham Hill to overtake you, hoping your business may
occasion
you towards Ware, whither I am going this fine fresh May morning.

Venator. Sir, I for my
part
shall almost answer your hopes; for my purpose is to drink my morning's
draught at the Thatch'd House in Hodsden, and I think not to rest till
I come thither, where I have appointed a friend or two to meet me: but
for this gentleman that you see with me, I know not how far he intends
his journey; he came so lately into my company, that I have scarcely
had
time to ask him the question.

Auceps. Sir, I shall
by your
favour bear you company as far as Theobald's, and there leave you; for
then I turn up to a friend's house, who mews a hawk for me, which I now
long to see.

Ven. Sir, we are all
so happy
as to have a fine, fresh, cool morning, and I hope we shall each be the
happier in the other's company. And, gentlemen, that I may not lose
yours,
I shall either abate or amend my pace to enjoy it; knowing that, as the
Italians say, good company in a journey makes the way to seem the
shorter.

Auc. It may do so,
sir, with
the help of good discourse, which, methinks, we may promise from you,
that
both look and speak so cheerfully: and for my part I promise you, as an
invitation to it, that I will be as free and open-hearted, as
discretion
will allow me to be with strangers.

Ven. And, sir, I
promise the
like.

Pisc. I am right glad
to hear
your answer; and, in confidence you speak the truth, I shall put on a
boldness
to ask you, sir, whether business or pleasure caused you to be so early
up, and walk so fast; for this other gentleman hath declared he is
going
to see a hawk, that a friend mews for him.

Ven. Sir, mine is a
mixture
of both, a little business and more pleasure; for I intend this day to
do all my business, and then bestow another day or two in hunting the
otter,
which a friend that I go to meet, tells me is much pleasanter than any
other chase whatsoever; howsoever I mean to try it; for to-morrow
morning
we shall meet a pack of otter-dogs of noble Mr. Sadler's, upon
Amwell-hill,
who will be there so early, that they intend to prevent the sun-rising.

Pisc. Sir, my fortune
has
answered my desires, and my purpose is to bestow a day or two in
helping
to destroy some of those villainous vermin, for I hate them perfectly,
because they love fish so well, or rather, because they destroy so
much;
indeed so much, that in my judgment, all men that keep otter-dogs,
ought
to have pensions from the King to encourage them to destroy the breed
of
these base otters, they do so much mischief.

Ven. But what say you
to the
foxes of the nation, would not you as willingly have them destroyed?
for
doubtless they do as much mischief as otters do.

Pisc. Oh sir, if they
do,
it is not so much to me and my fraternity, as those base vermin the
otters
do.

Auc. Why, sir, I pray
of what
fraternity are you, that you are so angry with the poor otters?

Pisc. I am, sir, a
brother
of the angle, and therefore an enemy to the otter: for you are to note,
that we anglers all love one another, and therefore do I hate the otter
both for my own and for their sakes who are of my brotherhood.

Ven. And I am a lover
of hounds;
I have followed many a pack of dogs many a mile, and heard many merry
huntsmen
make sport and scoff at anglers.

Auc. And I profess
myself
a falconer, and have heard many grave, serious, men pity them, it is
such
a heavy, contemptible dull recreation.

Pisc. You know,
gentlemen,
it is an easy thing to scoff at any art or recreation; a little wit,
mixed
with ill-nature, confidence, and malice, will do it; but though they
often
venture boldly, yet they are often caught, even in their own trap,
according
to that of Lucian, the father of the family of scoffers:---

Lucian
well skill'd
in scoffing, this hath writ, Friend,
that's
your folly, which you think your wit: This you vent
oft, void both of wit and fear, Meaning
another,
when yourself you jeer.

If to this you add what
Solomon says
of scoffers, that they are an abomination to mankind, let him that
thinks
fit scoff on, and be a scoffer still; but I account them enemies to me
and all that love virtue and angling. And for you
that
have heard many grave, serious men pity anglers; let me tell you, sir,
there be many men that are by others taken to be serious and grave men,
whom we contemn and pity. Men that are taken to be grave, because
nature
hath made them of a sour complexion; money-getting men, men that spend
all their time, first in getting, and next, in anxious care to keep it;
men that are condemned to be rich, and then always busy or
discontented:
for these poor rich men, we anglers pity them perfectly, and stand in
no
need to borrow their thoughts to think ourselves so happy. No, no, sir,
we enjoy a contentedness above the reach of such dispositions, and as
the
learned and ingenuous Montaigne says like himself, freely, "when my cat
and I entertain each other with mutual apish tricks, as playing with a
garter, who knows but that I make my cat more sport than she makes me?
Shall I conclude her to be simple, that has her time to begin or refuse
to play as freely as I myself have? Nay, who knows but that it is a
defect
of my not understanding her language (for doubtless cats talk and
reason
with one another) that we agree no better: and who knows but that she
pities
me for being no wiser, than to play with her, and laughs and censures
my
folly, for making sport for her, when we two play together?" Thus freely
speaks
Montaigne concerning cats, and I hopeI may take as great a liberty to
blame any man, and laugh at him too, let him be never so grave that
hath
not heard what anglers can say in the justification of their art and
recreation;
which I may again tell you, is so full of pleasure that we need not
borrow
their thoughts, to think ourselves happy.

Ven. Sir, you have
almost
amazed me, for though I am no scoffer, yet I have, I pray let me speak
it, without offence, always looked upon anglers, as more patient, and
more
simple men, than I fear I shall find you to be.

Pisc. Sir, I hope you
will
not judge my earnestness to be impatience: and for my simplicity, if by
that you mean a harmlessness, or that simplicity which was usually
found
in the primitive Christians, who were, as most anglers are, quiet men,
and followers of peace, men that were so simply wise, as not to sell
their
consciences to buy riches, and with them vexation and a fear to die;
for
if you mean such simple men as lived in those times when there were
fewer
lawyers; when men might have had a lordship safely conveyed to them in
a piece of parchment no bigger than your hand, though several sheets
will
not do it safely in this wiser age; I say, sir, if you take us anglers
to be such simple men as I have spoken of, then myself and those of my
profession will be glad to be so understood: but if by simplicity you
meant
to express a general defect in those that profess and practise the
excellent
art of angling, I hope in time to disabuse you, and make the contrary
appear
so evidently, that if you will but have patience to hear me, I shall
remove
all the anticipations that discourse, or time, or prejudice, have
possessed
you with against that laudable and ancient art; for I know it is worthy
the knowledge and practice of a wise man. But,
gentlemen,
though I be able to do this, I am not so unmannerly as to engross all
the
discourse to myself; and, therefore, you two having declared
yourselves,
the one to be a lover of hawks, the other of hounds, I shall be most
glad
to hear what you can say in the commendation of that recreation which
each
of you love and practise; and having heard what you can say, I shall be
glad to exercise your attention with what I can say concerning my own
recreation
and art of angling, and by this means, we shall make the way seem the
shorter;
and if you like my motion, I would have Mr. Falconer to begin.

Auc. Your motion is
consented
to with all my heart, and to testify it, I will begin as you have
desired
me. And first,
for
the element that I [use] to trade in, which is the air, an element of
more
worth than weight, an element that doubtless exceeds both the earth and
water; for though I sometimes deal in both, yet the air is most
properly
mine, I and my hawks use that, and it yields us most recreation; it
stops
not the high soaring of my noble, generous falcon; in it she ascends to
such an height, as the dull eyes of beasts and fish are not able to
reach
to; their bodies are too gross for such high elevations; in the air my
troops of hawks soar up on high, and when they are lost in the sight of
men, then they attend upon and converse with the gods; therefore
I think my eagle is so justly styled Jove's servant in ordinary: and
that
very falcon, that I am now going to see, deserves no meaner a title,
for
she usually in her flight endangers herself, like the son of Daedalus,
to have her wings scorched by the sun's heat, she flies so near it, but
her mettle makes her careless of danger; for then she heeds nothing,
but
makes her nimble pinions cut the fluid air, and so makes her highway
over
the steepest mountains and deepest rivers, and in her glorious career
looks
with contempt upon those high steeples and magnificent palaces which we
adore and wonder at; from which height I can make her descend by a word
from my mouth (which she both knows and obeys) to accept of meat from
my
hand, to own me for her master, to go home with me, and be willing the
next day to afford me the like recreation. And more;
this
element of air which I profess to trade in, the worth of it is such,
and
it is of such necessity, that no creatures whatsoever---not only those
numerous creatures that feed on the face of the earth, but those
various
creatures that have their dwelling within the waters, every creature
that
hath life in its nostrils, stands in need of my element. The waters
cannot
preserve the fish without air, witness the not breaking of ice in an
extreme
frost; the reason is, for that if the inspiring and expiring organ of
any
animal be stopped, it suddenly yields to nature, and dies. Thus
necessary
is air, to the existence, both of fish and beasts, nay, even to man
himself;
that air, or breath of life, with which God at first inspired mankind,
he, if he wants it, dies presently, becomes a sad object to all that
loved
and beheld him, and in an instant turns to putrefaction. Nay more, the
very birds of the air, those that be not hawks, are both so many and so
useful and pleasant to mankind, that I must not let them pass without
some
observations: they both feed and refresh him; feed him with their
choice
bodies, and refresh him with their heavenly voices:---I will not
undertake
to mention the several kinds of fowl by which this is done:---and his
curious
palate pleased by day, and which with their very excrements afford him
a soft lodging at night. These I will pass by, but not those little
nimble
musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, with
which
nature hath furnished them to the shame of art. As first the
lark, when she means to rejoice, to cheer herself and those that hear
her;
she then quits the earth, and sings as she ascends higher into the air,
and having ended her heavenly employment, grows then mute and sad, to
think
she must descend to the dull earth, which she would not touch but for
necessity. How do the
blackbird
and thrassel with their melodious voices bid welcome to the cheerful
Spring,
and in their fixed months warble forth such ditties as no art or
instrument
can reach to! Nay, the
smaller
birds also do the like in their particular seasons, as namely the
leverock,
the titlark, the little linnet, and the honest robin, that loves
mankind
both alive and dead. But the
nightingale,
another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her
little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think
miracles
are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps
securely,
should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants,
the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her
voice,
might well be lifted above earth, and say, Lord, what music hast thou
provided
for the saints in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on
earth! And this
makes
me the less to wonder at the many aviaries in Italy, or at the great
charge
of Varro's aviary, the ruins of which are yet to be seen in Rome, and
is
still so famous there, that it is reckoned for one of those notables
which
men of foreign nations either record, or lay up in their memories when
they return from travel. This for the
birds of pleasure, of which very much more might be said. My next shall
be of birds of political use; I think 'tis not to be doubted that
swallows
have been taught to carry letters between two armies. But 'tis certain
that when the Turks beseiged Malta or Rhodes, I now remember not when
it
was, pigeons are then related to carry and recarry letters; and Mr. G.
Sandys, in his "Travels," relates it to be done betwixt Aleppo and
Babylon.
But if that be disbelieved, it is not to be doubted that the dove was
sent
out of the ark by Noah, to give him notice of land, when to him all
appeared
to be sea, and the dove proved a faithful and comfortable messenger.
And
for the sacrifices of the law, a pair of turtle-doves, or young
pigeons,
were as well accepted as costly bulls and rams. And when God would feed
the prophet Elijah, 1 Kings xvii. 46, after a kind of miraculous
manner,
he did it by ravens, who brought him meat morning and evening. Lastly,
the Holy Ghost, when he descended visibly upon our Saviour, did it by
assuming
the shape of a dove. And, to conclude this part of my discourse, pray
remember
these wonders which were done by birds of the air, the element in which
they, and I take so much pleasure. There is also
a little contemptible winged creature, an inhabitant of my aerial
element,
namely, the laborious bee, of whose prudence, policy, and regular
government
of their own commonwealth, I might say much, as also of their several
kinds,
and how useful their honey and wax is both for meat and medicines to
mankind;
but I will leave them to their sweet labour, without the least
disturbance,
believing them to be all very busy at this very time amongst the herbs
and flowers that we see nature puts forth this May morning. And [n]ow to
return to my hawks, from whom I have made too long a digression; you
are
to note, that they are usually distinguished into two kinds; namely,
the
long-winged, and the short-winged hawk: of the first kind, there be
chiefly
in use amongst us in this nation,

The
gerfalcon
and jerkin, The falcon
and
tassel-gentel, The laner and
laneret, The bockerel
and bockeret, The saker and
sacaret, The merlin
and
jack merlin, The hobby and
jack;

There is the stelletto of
Spain, The blood-red
rook from Turkey, The waskite
from
Virginia;

And there is of short-winged
hawks, The eagle and
iron, The goshawk
and
tarcel, The sparhawk
and musket, The French
pye
of two sorts;

These are reckoned hawks of
note
and worth, but we have also of an inferiour rank,

The
stanyel, the
ringtail, The raven,
the
buzzard, The forked
kite,
the bald buzzard, The
hen-driver,
and others that I forbear to name.

Gentlemen,
if
I should enlarge my discourse to the observations of the eires, the
brancher,
the ramish hawk, the haggard, and the two sorts of lentners, and then
treat
of their several ayries, their mewings, rare order of casting, and the
renovation of their feathers; their reclaiming, dieting, and then come
to their rare stories of practice; I say, if I should enter into these,
and many other observations that I could make, it would be much, very
much
pleasure to me; but lest I should break the rules of civility with you,
by taking up more than the proportion of time alotted to me, I will
here
break off, and entreat you, Mr. Venator, to say what you are able in
the
commendation of hunting, to which you are so much affected; and if time
will serve, I will beg your favour for a further enlargement of some of
those several heads of which I have spoken. But no more at present.

Ven. Well, sir, and I
will
now take my turn, and will first begin with a commendation of the
earth,
as you have done most excellently of the air; the earth being that
element
upon which I drive my pleasant, wholesome, hungry trade. The earth is a
solid, settled element; an element universally beneficial both to man
and
beast: to men who have their several recreations upon it, as
horse-races,
hunting, sweet smells, pleasant walks: the earth feeds man, and all
those
several beasts that both feed him, and afford him recreation. What
pleasure
doth man take in hunting the stately stag, the generous buck, the wild
boar, the cunning otter, the crafty fox, and the fearful hare! And if I
may descend to a lower game, what pleasure is it sometimes with gins to
betray the very vermin of the earth! as namely, the fichat, the
fulmart,
the ferret, the pole-cat, the mouldwarp, and the like creatures that
live
upon the face and within the bowels of the earth. How doth the earth
bring
forth herbs, flowers, and fruits, both for physic and the pleasure of
mankind!
and above all, to me at least, the fruitful vine, of which when I drink
moderately, it clears my brain, cheers my heart, and sharpens my wit.
How
could Cleopatra have feasted Mark Antony with eight wild boars roasted
whole at one supper, and other meat suitable, if the earth had not been
a bountiful mother? But to pass by the mighty elephant, which the earth
breeds and nourisheth, and descend to the least of creatures, how doth
the earth afford us a doctrinal example in the little pismire, who in
the
summer provides and lays up her winter provision, and teaches man to do
the like! The earth feeds and carries those horses that carry us. If I
would be a prodigal of my time and your patience, what might not I say
in commendation of the earth? That puts limits to the proud and raging
sea---and by that means preserves both man and beast, that it destroys
them not, as we see it daily doth those that venture upon the seas, and
are there shipwrecked, drowned, and left to feed haddocks; when we that
are so wise as to keep ourselves on earth, walk and talk, and live, and
eat, and drink, and go a hunting: of which recreation I will say a
little,
and then leave Mr. Piscator to the commendation of angling. Hunting is a
game for princes and noble persons; it hath been highly prized in all
ages;
it was one of the qualifications that Xenophon bestowed on his Cyrus,
that
he was a hunter of wild beasts. Hunting trains up the younger nobility
to the use of manly exercises in their riper age. What more manly
exercise
than hunting the wild boar, the stag, the buck, the fox, or the hare?
How
doth it preserve health, and increase strength and activity! And for the
dogs
that we use, who can commend their excellency to that height which they
deserve? How perfect is the hound at smelling, who never leaves or
forsakes
his first scent, but follows it through so many changes and varieties
of
other scents, even over, and in, the water, and into the earth? What
music
doth a pack of dogs then make to any man, whose heart and ears are so
happy
as to be set to the tune of such instruments! How will a right
greyhound
fix his eye on the best buck ina herd, single him out, and follow him,
and him only, through a whole herd of rascal game, and still know and
then
kill him! For my hounds---I know the language of them, and they know
the
language and meaning of one another, as perfectly as we know the voices
of those with whom we discourse daily. I might
enlarge
myself in the commendation of hunting, and of the noble hound
especially,
as also of the docibleness of dogs in general; and I might make
many
observations of land-creatures, that for composition, order, figure,
and
constitution, approach nearest to the completeness and understanding of
man; especially of those creatures, which Moses in the Law permitted to
the Jews, which have cloven hoofs, and chew the cud; which I shall
forbear
to name, because I will not be so uncivil to Mr. Piscator, as not to
allow
him a time for the commendation of angling, which he calls an art; but
doubtless it is an easy one: and Mr. Auceps, I doubt not we shall hear
a watery discourse of it, but I hope it will not be a long one.

Auc. And I hope so
too, though
I fear it will.

Pisc. Gentlemen, let
not prejudice
prepossess you. I confess my discourse is like to prove suitable to my
recreation, calm and quiet; we seldom take the name of God into our
mouths,
but it is either to praise him, or pray to him; if others use it vainly
in the midst of their recreations, so vainly as if they meant to
conjure,
I must tell you, it is neither our fault or our custom; we protest
against
it. But, pray remember I accuse nobody; for as I would not make a
watery
discourse, so I would not put too much vinegar into it; nor would I
raise
the reputation of my own art, by the diminution or ruin of another's.
And
so much for the prologue to what I mean to say. And now for
the
water, the element that I trade in. The water is the eldest daughter of
the creation, the element upon which the Spirit of God did first move,
the element which God commanded to bring forth living creatures
abundantly;
and without which, those that inhabit the land, even all creatures that
have breath in their nostrils, must suddenly return to putrefaction.
Moses,
the great lawgiver and chief philosopher, skilled in all the learning
of
the Egyptians, who was called the friend of God, and knew the mind of
the
Almighty, names this element the first in the creation: this is the
element
upon which the Spirit of God did first move, and is the chief
ingredient
in the creation; many philosophers have made it to comprehend all the
other
elements, and most allow it the chiefest in the mixtion of all living
creatures. There be that
profess to believe that all bodies are made of water, and may be
reduced
back again to water only: they endeavour to demonstrate it thus: Take a
willow,
or any speedy-growing plant, newly rooted in a box, or barrel full of
earth,
weigh them exactly when the trees begin to grow and then weigh them
altogether
after the tree is increased from its first rooting, to weigh an hundred
pound weight more than when it was first rooted and weighed; and you
shall
find this augment of the tree to be without the diminution of one
drachm
weight of the earth. Hence they infer this increase of wood, to be from
water or rain, or from dew, and not to be from any other element. And
they
affirm, they can reduce this wood back again to water; and they affirm
also, the same may be done in any animal or vegetable. And this I take
to be a fair testimony of the excellency of my element of water. The water is
more productive than the earth. Nay, the earth hath no fruitfulness
without
showers or dews; for all the herbs, and flowers, and fruits, are
produced
and thrive by the water; and the very minerals are fed by streams that
run under ground, whose natural course carries them to the tops of many
high mountains, as we see by several springs breaking forth on the tops
of the highest hills; and this is also witnessed by the daily trial and
testimony of several miners. Nay, the
increase
of those creatures that are bred and fed in the water, are not only
more
and more miraculous, but more advantageous to man, not only for the
lengthening
of his life, but for preventing of sickness; for it is observed by the
most learned physicians, that the casting off of Lent, and other
fish-days,
which hath not only given the lie to so many pious, wise founders of
colleges,
for which we should be ashamed, has doubtless been the chief cause of
those
many putrid, shaking, intermitting agues, unto which this nation of
ours
is now more subject, than those wiser countries that feed on herbs,
sallets,
and plenty of fish; of which it is observed in story, that the greatest
part of the world now do. And it may be fit to remember that Moses,
Lev.
xi. Deut. xiv. 9, appointed fish to be the chief diet for the best
commonwealth
that ever yet was. And it is
observable,
not only that there are fish, as namely the whale, three times as big
as
the mighty elephant, that is so fierce in battle, but that the
mightiest
feasts have been of fish. The Romans, in the height of their glory,
have
made fish the mistress of all their entertainments; they have had music
to usher in their stugeons, lampreys, and mullets, which they would
purchase
at rates, rather to be wondered at than believed. He that shall view
the
writings of Macrobius or Varro, may be confirmed and informed of this,
and of the incredible value of their fish and fish-ponds. But,
gentlemen,
I have almost lost myself, which I confess I may easily do in this
philosophical
discourse; I met with most of it very lately, and, I hope happily, in a
conference with a most learned physician, Dr. Wharton, a dear friend,
that
loves both me and my art of angling. But, however, I will wade no
deeper
in these mysterious arguments, but pass to such observations as I can
manage
with more pleasure, and less fear of running into error. But I must not
yet forsake the waters, by whose help we have so many advantages. And, first,
to
pass by the miraculous cures of our known baths, how advantageous is
the
sea for our daily traffic, without which we could not now subsist! How
does it not only furnish us with food and physic for the bodies, but
with
such observations for the mind as ingenious persons would not want! How ignorant
had we been of the beauty of Florence, of the monuments, urns, and
rarities
that yet remain in, and near unto old and new Rome, so many as it is
said
will take up a year's time to view, and afford to each of them but a
convenient
consideration! And, therefore, it is not to be wondered at, that so
learned
and devout a father as St. Jerome, after his wish to have seen Christ
in
the flesh, and to have heard St. Paul preach, makes his third wish, to
have seen Rome in her glory; and that glory is not yet all lost, for
what
pleasure is it to see the monuments of Livy, the choicest of the
historians;
of Tully, the best of orators; and to see the bay-trees that now grow
out
of the very tomb of Virgil! These, to any that love learning, must be
pleasing.
But what pleasure is it to a devout Christian, to see there the humble
house in which St. Paul was content to dwell, and to view the many rich
statues that are made in honour of his memory! nay, to see the very
place
in which St. Peter and he lie buried together! These are in and near
Rome.
And how much more doth it please the pious curiosity of a Christian, to
see that place on which the blessed Saviour of the world was pleased to
humble himself, and to take our nature upon him, and to converse with
men:
and to see Mount Sion, Jerusalem, and the very sepulchre of our Lord
Jesus!
How may it beget and heighten the zeal of a Christian, to see the
devotions
that are daily paid to Him at that place! Gentlemen, lest I forget
myself,
I will stop here, and remember you, that but for my element of water,
the
inhabitants of this poor island must remain ignorant that such things
ever
were, or that any of them have yet a being. Gentlemen, I
might both enlarge and lose myself in such like arguments. I might tell
you that Almighty God is said to have spoken to a fish, but never to a
beast; that he hath made a whale a ship, to carry and set his prophet
Jonah,
safe on the appointed shore. Of these I might speak, but I must in
manners
break off, for I see Theobalds House. I cry you mercy for being so
long,
and thank you for your patience.

Auc. Sir, my pardon is
easily
granted you: I except against nothing that you have said; nevertheless,
I must part with you at this park-wall, for which I am very sorry; but
I assure you, Mr. Piscator, I now part with you full of good thoughts,
not only of yourself, but of your recreation. And so, gentlemen, God
keep
you both.

Ven. Not I, sir: I
remember
you said that angling itself was of great antiquity, and a perfect art,
and an art not easily attained to; and you have so won upon me in your
former discourse, that I am very desirous to hear what you can say
further
concerning those particulars.

Pisc. Sir, I did say
so: and
I doubt not but if you and I did converse together but a few hours, to
leave you possessed with the same high and happy thoughts that now
possesses
me of it; not only of the antiquity of angling, but that it deserves
commendations;
and that it is an art, and an art worthy the knowledge and practice of
a wise man.

Ven. Pray, sir, speak
of them
what you think fit, for we have yet five miles to the Thatched-House;
during
which walk, I dare promise you, my patience and diligent attention
shall
not be wanting. And if you shall make that to appear which you
have
undertaken---first, that it is an art, and an art worthy the learning,
I shall beg that I may attend you a day or two a-fishing, and that I
may
become your scholar and be instructed in the art itself which you so
much
magnify.

Pisc. O, sir, doubt
not but
that angling is an art; is it not an art to deceive a trout with an
artificial
fly? a trout that is more sharp-sighted than any hawk you have named,
and
more watchful and timorous than your high-mettled merlin is bold? and
yet
I doubt not to catch a brace or two to-morrow, for a friend's
breakfast:
doubt not, therefore, sir, but that angling is an art, and an art worth
your learning. The question is rather, whether you be capable of
learning
it? for angling is somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so: I mean
with inclinations to it, though both may be heightened by discourse and
practice; but he that hopes to be a good angler, must not only bring an
inquiring, searching, observing wit, but he must bring a large measure
of hope and patience, and a love and propensity to the art itself; but
having once got and practised it, then doubt not but angling will prove
to be so pleasant, that it will prove to be, like virtue, a reward to
itself.

Ven. Sir, I am now
become
so full of expectation, that I long much to have you proceed, and in
the
order that you propose.

Pisc. Then first, for
the
antiquity of angling, of which I shall not say much, but only this;
some
say it is as ancient as Deucalion's flood; others, that Belus, who was
the first inventor of godly and virtuous recreations, was the first
inventor
of angling; and some others say, for former times have had their
disquisitions
about the antiquity of it, that Seth, one of the sons of Adam, taught
it
to his sons, and that by them it was derived to posterity; others say,
that he left it engraven on those pillars which he erected, and trusted
to preserve the knowledge of mathematics, music, and the rest of that
precious
knowledge, and those useful arts, which by God's appointment or
allowance,
and his noble industry, were thereby preserved from perishing in Noah's
flood. These, sir,
have
been the opinions of several men, that have possibly endeavoured to
make
angling more ancient than is needful, or may well be warranted; but for
my part, I shall content myself in telling you, that angling is much
more
ancient than the incarnation of our Saviour; for in the Prophet Amos,
mention
is made of fish-hooks; and in the book of Job, which was long before
the
days of Amos, for that book is said to have been written by Moses,
mention
is made also of fish-hooks, which must imply anglers in those times. But, my
worthy
friend, as I would rather prove myself a gentleman, by being learned
and
humble, valiant and inoffensive, virtuous and communicable, than by any
fond ostentation of riches, or, wanting those virtues myself, boast
that
these were in my ancestors; (and yet, I grant, that where a noble and
ancient
descent and such merit meet in any man, it is a double dignification of
that person;) so if this antiquity of angling, which for my part I have
not forced, like an ancient family, be either an honour or an ornament
shall, to this virtuous art which I profess to love and practise, I
shall
be the gladder that I made an accidental mention of the antiquity of
it;
of which I shall say no more, but proceed to that just commendation
which
I think it deserves. And for that
I shall tell you, that in ancient times a debate hath risen, and it
remains
yet unresolved, whether the happiness of man in this world doth consist
more in contemplation or action? Concerning
which
some have endeavoured to maintain their opinion of the first, by
saying,
that the nearer we mortals come to God by way of imitation, the more
happy
we are. And they say, that God enjoys himself only, by a contemplation
of his own infiniteness, eternity, power, and goodness, and the like.
And
upon this ground, many cloisteral men of great learning and devotion,
prefer
contemplation before action. And many of the fathers seem to approve
this
opinion, as may appear in their commentaries upon the words of our
Saviour
to Martha, Luke x. 41, 42. And on the
contrary,
there want not men of equal authority and credit, that prefer action to
be the more excellent; as, namely, experiments in physic, and the
application
of it, both for the ease and prolongation of man's life,---by which
each
man is enabled to act and do good to others, either to serve his
country,
or do good to particular persons; and they say also, that action is
doctrinal,
and teaches both art and virtue, and is a maintainer of human society;
and for these, and other like reasons, to be preferred before
contemplation. Concerning
which
two opinions I shall forbear to add a third, by declaring my own; and
rest
myself contented in telling you, my very worthy friend, that both these
meet together, and do most properly belong to the most honest,
ingenuous,
quiet, and harmless art of angling. And first, I
shall tell you what some have observed, and I have found to be a real
truth,
that the very sitting by the river's side, is not only the quietest and
fittest place for contemplation, but will invite an angler to it: and
this
seems to be maintained by the learned Peter du Moulin, who in his
discourse
of the fulfilling of prophecies, observes, that when God intended to
reveal
any future events or high notions to his prophets, he then carried them
either to the deserts, or the sea-shore, that having so separated them,
from amidst the press of people and business, and the cares of the
world,
he might settle their mind in a quiet repose, and there make them fit
for
revelation. And this
seems
also to be intimated by the children of Israel, Ps. 137, who having in
a sad condition banished all mirth and music from their pensive hearts,
and having hung up their mute harps upon the willow-trees growing by
the
rivers of Babylon, sat down upon those banks, bemoaning the ruins of
Sion,
and contemplating their own sad condition. And an
ingenious
Spaniard says, that "rivers and the inhabitants of the watery element
were
made for wise men to contemplate, and fools to pass by without
consideration."
And though I will not rank myself in the number of the first, yet give
me leave to free myself from the last, by offering to you a short
contemplation,
first of rivers, and then of fish; which I doubt not but to give you
many
observations that will appear very considerable: I am sure they have
appeared
so to me, and made many an hour pass away more pleasantly, as I have
sate
quietly on a flowery bank by a calm river, and contemplated what I
shall
now relate to you. And first
concerning
rivers; there be so many wonders reported and written of them, and of
the
several creatures that be bred and live in them, and those by authors
of
so good credit, that we need not to deny them an historical faith. As, namely,
of
a river in Epirus, that puts out any lighted torch, and kindles any
torch
that was not lighted. Some waters being drunk, cause madness, some
drunkenness,
and some laughter to death. The river Selarus in a few hours turns a
rod
or wand to stone: and our Camden mentions the like in England, and the
like in Lochmere in Ireland. There is also a river in Arabia, of which
all the sheep that drink thereof have their wool turned into a
vermilion
colour. And one of no less credit than Aristotle, tells us of a merry
river,
the river Elusina, that dances at the noise of music, for with music it
bubbles, dances, and grows sandy, and so continues till the music
ceases,
but then it presently returns to its wonted calmness and clearness. And
Camden tells us of a well near to Kirby in Westmoreland, that ebbs and
flows several times everyday: and he tells us of a river in Surrey, it
is called Mole, that after it has run several miles, being opposed by
hills,
finds or makes itself a way under ground, and breaks out again so far
off,
that the inhabitants thereabout boast, as the Spaniards do of their
river
Anus, that they feed divers flocks of sheep upon a bridge. And, lastly,
for I would not tire your patience, one of no less authority than
Josephus,
that learned Jew, tells us of a river in Judea that runs swiftly all
the
six days of the week, and stands still and rests all their sabbath. But I will
lay
aside my discourse of rivers, and tell you some things of the monsters,
or fish, call them what you will, that they breed and feed in them.
Pliny
the philosopher says, in the third chapter of his ninth book, that in
the
Indian sea, the fish called balaena or whirlpool, is so long and broad,
as to take up more in length and breadth than two acres of ground; and,
of other fish of two hundred cubits long; and that in the river Ganges,
there be eels of thirty feet long. He says there, that these monsters
appear
in that sea only when the tempestuous winds oppose the torrents of
water
falling from the rocks into it, and so turning what lay at the bottom
to
be seen on the water's top. And he says, that the people of Cadara, an
island near this place, make the timber for their houses of those
fish-bones.
He there tells us, that there are sometimes a thousand of these great
eels
found wrapt, or interwoven together. He tells us there, that it appears
the dolphins love music, and will come, when called for, by some men or
boys, that know and use to feed them, and that they can can swim as
swift
as an arrow can be shot from a bow; and much of this is spoken
concerning
the dolphin, and other fish: as may be found also in the learned Dr.
Casaubon's
"Discourse of Credulity and Incredulity," printed by him about the year
1670. I know, we
islanders
are averse to the belief of these wonders; but there be so many strange
creatures to be now seen, many collected by John Tradescant, and others
added by my friend Elias Ashmole, Esq., who now keeps them carefully
and
methodically at his house near to Lambeth, near London; as may get some
belief of some of the other wonders I mentioned. I will tell you some
of
the wonders that you may now see,--and not till then believe, unless
you
think fit. You may there
see the hog-fish, the dog-fish, the dolphin, the parrot-fish, the
shark,
the poison-fish, sword-fish, and not only other incredible fish; but
you
may there see the salamander, several sorts of barnacles, of Solan
geese,
the bird of Paradise; such sorts of snakes, and such bird's-nests, and
of so various forms, and so wonderfully made, as may beget wonder and
amusement
in any beholder; and so many hundred of other rarities in that
collection,
as will make the other wonders I spake of the less incredible; for, you
may note, that the waters are Nature's store-house, in which she locks
up her wonders. But, sir,
lest
this discourse may seem tedious, I shall give it a sweet conclusion out
of that holy poet, Mr. George Herbert, his divine "Contemplation on
God's
Providence:"

Lord! who
hath
praise enough, nay who hath any? None can
express
thy works, but he that knows them; And none can
know thy works, they are so many, And so
complete,
but only he that owes them.

We all,
acknowledge
both thy power and love To be exact,
transcendant, and divine--- Who dost so
strangely
and so sweetly move, Whilst all
things
have their end,---yet none, but thine.

Wherefore,
most
sacred Spirit! I here present, For me and
all
my fellows, praise to thee; And just it
is,
that I should pay the rent, Because the
benefit
accrues to me.

And as
concerning
fish: In that psalm (Psal. civ.) wherein for height of poetry and
wonders,
the prophet David seems even to exceed himself: how doth he there
express
himself in choice metaphors---even to the amazement of a contemplative
reader---concerning the sea, the rivers, and the fish therein
contained!
And the great naturalist, Pliny, says, "That nature's great and
wonderful
power is more demonstrated in the sea than on the land." And this may
appear,
by the numerous and various creatures inhabiting, both in and about,
that
element; as to the readers of Gessner, Rondeletius, Pliny, Ausonius,
Aristotle,
and others, may be demonstrated. But I will sweeten this discourse also
out of a contemplation in divine Du Bartas, who says:---

God
quickened---in
the sea, and in the rivers--- So many
fishes
of so many features, That in the
waters
we may see all creatures, Even all that
on the earth are to be found, As if the
world
were in deep waters drown'd. For seas---as
well as skies---have sun, moon, stars As well as
air---swallows,
rooks, and stares; As well as
earth---vines,
roses, nettles, melons, Mushrooms,
pinks,
gilliflowers, and many millions Of other
plants,
more rare, more strange than these; As very
fishes,
living in the seas; As also rams,
calves, horses, hares, and hogs, Wolves,
urchins,
lions, elephants, and dogs; Yea, men and
maids; and, which I most admire, The mitred
bishop
and the cowled friar, Of which
examples,
but a few years since, Were shewn
the
Norway and Polonian prince.

These seem
to
be wonders; but have had so many confirmations from men of learning and
credit, that you need not doubt them. Nor are the number, nor the
various
shapes of fishes more strange, or more fit for contemplation, than
their
different natures, inclinations, and actions; concerning which, I shall
beg your patient ear a little longer. The
cuttle-fish
will cast a long gut out of her throat, which, like as an angler doth
his
line, she sendeth forth, and pulleth in again at her pleasure,
according
as she sees some little fish come near to her; and the cuttle-fish,
being
then hid in the gravel, lets the smaller fish nibble and bite the end
of
it; at which time she, by little and little, draws the smaller fish so
near to her, that she may leap upon her, and then catches and devours
her:
and for this reason some have called this fish the Sea-Angler. And there is
a fish called a hermit, that, at a certain age, gets into a dead fish's
shell; and like a hermit, dwells there alone, studying the wind and
weather;
and so turns her shell, that she makes it defend her from the injuries
that they would bring upon her. There is also
a fish, called by Aelian in his 9th book "Of Living Creatures," c. 16,
the Adonis, or darling of the sea: so called because it is a loving and
innocent fish---a fish that hurts nothing that hath life, and is at
peace
with all the numerous inhabitants of that vast watery element; and
truly
I think most anglers are so disposed to most of mankind. And, there
are
also, lustful and chaste fishes; of which I shall give you examples. And first,
what
Du Bartas says of a fish called the sargus, which, because none can
express
it better than he does, I shall give you in his own words; supposing it
shall not have the less credit for being verse; for he hath gathered
this,
and other observations, out of authors that have been great and
industrious
searchers into the secrets of nature.

The
adult'rous
sargus doth not only change Wives every
day,
in the deep streams, but, strange! As if the
honey
of sea-love delight Could not
suffice
his ranging appetite, Goes courting
she-goats on the grassy shore, Horning their
husbands that had horns before.

And the
same author
writes, concerning the cantharus, that which you shall also hear in his
own words:---

But,
contrary,
the constant cantharus Is ever
constant
to his faithful spouse; In nuptial
duties,
spending his chaste life; Never loves
any
but his own dear wife.

Sir, but a little longer, and
I have
done.

Ven. Sir, take what
liberty
you think fit, for your discourse seems to be music, and charms me to
an
attention.

Pisc. Why then, sir, I
will
take a liberty to tell, or rather to remember you what is said of
Turtle-doves:
first, that they silently plight their troth, and marry; and that then
the survivor scorns, as the Thracian women are said to do, to outlive
his
or her mate; (and this is taken for a truth;) and if the survivor shall
ever couple with another, then, not only the living but the dead, be it
either the he or the she, is denied the name and honour of a true
turtle-dove. And to
parallel
this land-rarity---and to teach mankind moral faithfulness; and to
condemn
those that talk of religion, and yet come short of the moral faith of
fish
and fowl, men that violate the law affirmed by St. Paul, Rom. ii. 14,
15,
to be writ in their hearts, and which he says shall at the last day
condemn
and leave them without excuse---I pray hearken to what Du Bartas sings,
for the hearing of such conjugal faithfulness will be music to what Du
Bartas sings of the mullet:

But---for
chaste
love---the mullet hath no peer; For, if the
fisher
hath suprised her pheer As mad with
wo,
to shore she followeth; Prest to
consort
him, both in life and death.

On the
contrary,
what shall I say of the house-cock, which treads any hen? and, then,
contrary
to the swan, the partridge, and pigeon, takes no care to hatch, to feed
or cherish his own brood, but is senseless, though they perish. And it
is considerable, that the hen, which, because she also takes any cock,
expects it not; who is sure the chickens be her own, hath by a moral
impression
her care and affection to her own brood more than doubled, even to such
a height, that our Saviour, in expressing his love to Jerusalem, Matt.
xxiii. 37, quotes her for an example of tender affection; as his Father
had done Job, for a pattern of patience. And to
parallel
this cock, there be divers fishes that cast their spawn on flags or
stones;
and then leave it uncovered, and exposed to become a prey and be
devoured
by vermin or other fishes. But other fishes, as namely the barbel, take
such care for the preservation of their seed, that (unlike the cock or
the cuckoo) they mutually labour, both the spawner and the melter,---to
cover their spawn with sand,---or, watch it,---or, hide it in some
secret
place, unfrequented by vermin or by any fish but themselves. Sir, these
examples
may, to you and others , seem strange; but they are testified---some by
Aristotle, some by Pliny, some by Gessner, and by many others of
credit;
and are believed and known by divers, both of wisdom and
experience---to
be a truth; and indeed are, as I said at the beginning, fit for the
contemplation
of a most serious and a most pious man. And, doubtless, this made the
prophet
David, say: "They that occupy themselves in deep waters, see the
wonderful
works of God:" indeed such wonders, and pleasures too, as the land
affords
not. And that they
be fit for the contemplation of the most prudent, and pious, and
peaceable
men, seems to be testified by the practice of so many devout and
contemplative
men as the patriarchs and prophets of old; and of the apostles of our
Saviour
in our latter times,---of which twelve, we are sure, he chose four that
were simple fishermen,---whom he inspired, and sent to publish his
blessed
will to the Gentiles; and inspired them also with a power to speak all
languages, and by their powerful eloquence to beget faith in the
unbelieving
Jews; and themselves to suffer for that Saviour whom their forefathers
and they had crucified; and, in their sufferings, to preach freedom
from
the incumbrances of the law, and a new way to everlasting life: this
was
the employment of these happy fishermen. Concerning which choice, some
have made these observations:--- First, that
he
never reproved these for their employment or calling, as he did the
Scribes
and the Money-changers. And, secondly, He found that the hearts of such
men, by nature, were fitted for contemplation and quietness; men of
mild,
and sweet, and peaceable spirits, as indeed most anglers are; yet these
men our blessed Saviour, who is observed to love to plant grace in good
natures, though indeed nothing be too hard for him; yet these men he
chose
to call from their irreprovable employment of fishing, and gave them
grace
to be his disciples, and to follow him, and do wonders; I say four of
twelve. And it is
observable,---that
it was our Saviour's will that these, our four fishermen, should have a
priority of nomination in the catalogue of his twelve apostles; (Matt.
x.) as namely, first St. Peter, St. Andrew, St. James, and St. John,
and,
then, the rest in their order. And it is yet
more observable,---that when our blessed Saviour went up into the
Mount,
when he left the rest of his disciples, and chose only three to bear
him
company at his transfiguration, that those three were all fishermen.
And
it is to be believed,---that all the other apostles, after they betook
themselves to follow Christ, betook themselves to be fishermen too; for
it is certain, that the greater number of them were found together,
fishing,
by Jesus after his resurrection, as it is recorded in the 21st chapter
of John's gospel. And, since I
have your promise to hear me with patience, I will take a liberty to
look
back upon an observation that hath been made by an ingenious and
learned
man; who observes, that God hath been pleased to allow those whom he
himself
hath appointed, to write his holy will in holy writ, yet to express his
will in such metaphors as their former affections or practice had
inclined
them to. And he brings Solomon for an example, who, before his
conversion,
was remarkably carnally amorous; and after, by God's appointment, wrote
that spiritual dialogue, or holy amorous love-song the "Canticles,"
betwixt
God and his Church: In which he says, "his beloved had eyes like the
fish-pools
of Heshbon." And if this
hold
in reason, as I see none to the contrary; then it may be probably
concluded,
that Moses who (I told you before) writ the book of "Job," and the
prophet
Amos, who was a shepherd, were both anglers; for you shall, in all the
"Old Testament," find fish-hooks, I think, but twice mentioned, namely,
by meek Moses the friend of God, and by the humble prophet Amos. Concerning
which
last, namely, the prophet Amos, I shall make but this
observation,---that
he that shall read the humble, lowly, plain style of that prophet; and
compare it with the high, glorious, eloquent style of the prophet
Isaiah;
though they be both equally true; may easily believe Amos to be, not
only
a shepherd, but a good-natured plain fisherman. Which I do
the
rather believe; by comparing the affectionate, loving, lowly, humble,
"Epistles"
of St. Peter, St. James, and St. John, whom we know were all fishers,
with
the glorious language and high metaphors of St. Paul, who we may
believe
was not. And for the
lawfulness
of fishing: It may very well be maintained by our Saviour's bidding St.
Peter cast his hook into the water, and catch a fish, for money to pay
tribute to Caesar. And let me
tell
you, that angling is of high esteem, and of much use in other nations.
He that reads the voyages of Ferdinand Mendez Pinto, shall find that
there
he declares to have found a king and several priests a-fishing. And he that
reads
Plutarch, shall find that angling was not contemptible in the days of
Marc
Antony and Cleopatra, and that they in the midst of their wonderful
glory
used angling as a principal recreation. And let me tell you that in the
Scripture, angling is always taken in the best sense; and that though
hunting
may be sometimes so taken, yet it is but seldom to be so understood.
And
let me add this more: he that views the ancient "Ecclesiastical
Canons,"
shall find hunting forbidden to churchmen, as being a turbulent,
toilsome,
perplexing recreation; and shall find angling allowed to clergymen, as
being a harmless recreation, a recreation that invites them to
contemplation
and quietness. I might here
enlarge myself, by telling you what commendations our learned Perkins
bestows
on angling: and how dear a lover, and great practiser of it our learned
Dr. Whitaker was; as indeed many others of great learning have been.
But
I will content myself with two memorable men, that lived near to our
own
time, whom I also take to have been ornaments to the art of angling. The first is
Dr. Nowel, sometime dean of the cathedral church of St. Paul's, in
London,
where his monument stands yet undefaced; a man that, in the reformation
of Queen Elizabeth, (1550) not that of Henry VIII., was so noted for
his
meek spirit, deep learning, prudence, and piety, that the then
parliament
and convocation, both, chose, enjoined, and trusted him to be the man
to
make a catechism for public use, such a one as should stand as a rule
for
faith and manners to their posterity. And the good old man, though he
was
very learned, yet knowing that God leads us not to heaven by
many,
nor by hard questions---like an honest angler, made that good, plain,
unperplexed
catechism, which is printed with our good old "Service-book." I say,
this
good man was a dear lover, and constant practiser of angling, as any
age
can produce. And his custom was to spend---besides his fixed hours of
prayer;
those hours which, by command of the Church were enjoined the clergy,
and
voluntarily dedicated to devotion by many primitive Christians; I say,
besides those hours this good man was observed to spend a tenth
part
of his time in angling; and also, (for I have conversed with those who
have conversed with him,) to bestowing a tenth part of his revenue, and
usually all his fish, amongst the poor that inhabited near to those
rivers
in which it was caught; saying often, "That charity gave life to
religion."
And, at his return to his house, would praise God he had spent that day
free from worldly trouble; both harmlessly, and in a recreation that
became
a churchman. And this good man was well content, if not desirous, that
posterity should know he was an angler; as may appear by his picture,
now
to be seen, and carefully kept in Brazenose College; to which he was a
liberal benefactor. In which picture he is drawn,---leaning on a desk;
with his bible before him; and on one hand of him, his lines, hooks,
and
other tackling, lying in a round; and, on his other hand, are his
angle-rods
of several sorts, and by them this is written, "that he died 13th Feb.,
1601, being aged 95 years, 44 of which he had been dean of St. Paul's
church;
and that his age neither impaired his hearing, nor dimmed his eyes, nor
weakened his memory, nor made any of the faculties of his mind weak or
useless." It is said that angling and temperance were great causes of
these
blessings. And I wish the like to all that imitate him, and love the
memory
of so good a man. My next and
last
example shall be that undervaluer of money, the late Provost of Eton
College,
Sir Henry Wotton: A man with whom I have often fished and conversed; a
man whose foreign employments in the service of this nation---and whose
experience, learning, wit, and cheerfulness---made his company to be
esteemed
one of the delights of mankind. This man, whose very approbation of
angling
were sufficient to convince any modest censurer of it; this man was,
also,
a most dear lover, and a frequent practiser of the art of angling; of
which
he would say, "It was an employment for his idle time, which was not
then
idly spent; for angling was, after tedious study, "a rest to his mind,
a cheerer of his spirits, a diverter of sadness, a calmer of unquiet
thoughts,
a moderator of passions, a procurer of contentedness;" and "that it
begat
habits of peace and patience in those that professed and
practised
it." Indeed, my friend, you will find angling to be like the virtue of
humility; which has a calmness of spirit, and a world of other
blessings
attending upon it. Sir, this was the saying of that learned man. And I do
easily
believe, that peace and patience, and a calm content did cohabit in the
cheerful heart of Sir Henry Wotton; because I know that, when he was
beyond
seventy years of age, he made this description of a part of the present
pleasure that possessed him, as he sat quietly, in a summer's evening,
on a bank a-fishing. It is a description of the spring; which because
it
glided so softly and sweetly from his pen, as that river does, at this
time, by which it was then made, I shall repeat it unto you:---

This day
dame
Nature seem'd in love: The lusty sap
began to move; Fresh juice
did
stir th'embracing vines, And birds had
drawn their valentines. The jealous
trout,
that low did lie, Rose at a
well-dissembled
flie; There stood
my
friend, with patient skill, Attending of
his trembling quill. Already were
the eaves possest With the
swift
Pilgrim's daubed nest; The groves
already
did rejoice In Philomel's
triumphing voice, The showers
were
short, the weather mild, The morning
fresh,
the evening smiled.
Joan
takes her neat-rubb'd pail, and now She trips to
milk the sand-red cow,--- Where, for
some
sturdy foot-ball swain, Joan strokes
a syllabub or twain, The fields
and
gardens were beset With tulips,
crocus, violet: And now,
though
late, the modest rose Did more than
half a blush disclose. Thus all
looks
gay, and full of cheer, To welcome
the
new livery'd year.

These were
the
thoughts that then possessed the undisturbed mind of Sir Henry Wotton.
Will you hear the wish of another angler, and the commendation of his
happy
life, which he also sings in verse; viz. Jo. Davors, Esq.:---

Let me
live harmlessly;
and near the brink
Of
Trent or Avon have a dwelling place,--- Where I may
see
my quill, or cork, down sink
With
eager bite of perch, or bleak, or dace; And on the
world
and my Creator think:
Whilst
some men strive ill-gotten goods t'embrace; And others
spend
their time in base excess Of
wine,---or,
worse, in war and wantonness:

Let them
that
list, these pastimes still pursue,
And
on such pleasing fancies feed their fill:--- So I the
fields
and meadows green may view,
And
daily by fresh rivers walk at will, Among the
daisies
and the violets blue,
Red
hyacinth, and yellow daffodil, Purple
narcissus
like the morning rays, Pale
gander-grass,
and azure culver-keyes:

I count it
higher
pleasure, to behold
The
stately compass of the lofty sky; And in the
midst
thereof, like burning gold,
The
flaming chariot of the world's great eye; The watery
clouds,
that in the air up-roll'd,
With
sundry kinds of painted colours fly; And fair
Aurora,
lifting up her head, Still
blushing,
rise from old Tithonus' bed;

The hills
and
mountains raised from the plains;
The
plains extended, level with the ground; The grounds,
divided into sundry veins;
The
veins, inclosed with rivers running round; These rivers,
making way through nature's chains,
With
headlong course into the sea profound; The raging
sea,
beneath the valleys low, Where lakes
and
rills and rivulets do flow;

The lofty
woods,---the
forests wide and long,---
Adorn'd
with leaves, and branches fresh and green,--- In whose cool
bowers the birds with many a song,
Do
welcome with their quire the summer's Queen; The meadows
fair,
where Flora's gifts among
Are
intermixt, with verdant grass between; The
silver-scaled
fish that softly swim Within the
sweet
brook's crystal wat'ry stream.

All these,
and
many more, of His creation
That
made the heavens, the Angler oft doth see, Taking
therein
no little delectation,
To
think how strange, how wonderful they be; Framing
thereof
an inward contemplation,
To
set his heart from other fancies free; And
whilst
he looks on these with joyful eye, His
mind
is rapt above the starry sky.

Sir,
I am
glad my memory has not lost these last verses, because they are
somewhat
more pleasant and more suitable to May-day, than my harsh discourse.
And
I am glad your patience hath held out so long, as to hear them and me,
for both together have brought us within the sight of the
Thatch'd-house:
and I must be your debtor, if you think it worth your attention, for
the
rest of my promised discourse, till some other opportunity, and a like
time of leisure.

Ven. Sir, you have
angled
me on with much pleasure to the Thatch'd-house; and I now find your
words
true, "That good company makes the way seem short;" for, trust me, sir,
I thought we had wanted three miles of this house till you showed it to
me. But now we are at it, we'll turn into it, and refresh ourselves
with
a cup of drink, and a little rest.

Pisc. Most gladly,
sir; and
we'll drink a civil cup to all the otter-hunters that are to meet you
to-morrow.

Ven. That we will,
sir, and
to all the lovers of angling too, of which number I am now willing to
be
one myself; for by the help of your good discourse and company, I have
put on new thoughts both of the art of angling, and of all that profess
it. And if you will but meet me to-morrow at the time and place
appointed;
and bestow one day with me and my friends, in hunting the otter, I will
dedicate the next two days to wait upon you; and we two will, for that
time, do nothing but angle, and talk of fish and fishing.

Pisc. It is a match,
sir;
I will not fail you, God willing, to be at Amwell-hill to-morrow
morning
before sun-rising.